


The Magical Properties of Silver

by CandyassGoth



Series: Mischief That Cannot be Handled [1]
Category: Hellboy (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Crossover, Drunk Loki, Elf, Fluff, Light Angst, Loki Has Issues, Loki Needs a Hug, M/M, Nuada is a gentleman, Post Avengers, SilverPrinces, loki feels sorry for himself, nuada is alive, nuada/loki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-18
Updated: 2013-10-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyassGoth/pseuds/CandyassGoth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A oneshot crossover fic involving Hellboy 2 and The Avengers. Loki escapes from his punishment and imprisonment on Asgard and makes it back to Midgard, where he finds the Troll Market. Weak and without shelter Loki wanders for a while before being confronted by a mysterious and attractive stranger decedent from the elves of Alfheimr. Given an invitation he can't afford to reject in his vulnerable state, Loki finds himself unwinding more than he probably should. Nuada and Loki fluff, Silverprinces~</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Magical Properties of Silver

**Author's Note:**

> So, continuing the tradition, this year for Halloween the fic I’m writing will be for Loki! And Nuada, from Hellboy 2. _SilverPrinces_! The pairing is so under loved that it kills me. Seriously why aren’t people crossing these universes, you know how much S.H.I.E.L.D and the BPRD could accomplish if they worked together. Not to mention the teams, Christmas dinners would be hilarious, Loki and Nuada chained on either side of the huge table as the Avengers and Hellboy and them feast and have shwarmas and shit. Thor and Red would eat everything between the two of them, and what I wouldn’t give to see Natasha and Nuada spar. And Meyers running back and forth between all the Avengers because he'd so be a fanboy. Coulson's prodigy.
> 
> Anyway, this is a prologue to another fic I am writing that will contain Loki, Nuada, and another man I won’t mention because reasons of secrecy and the government listening in *looks suspiciously into coffee mug*
> 
> No smut, regretfully, but fluffy feeling-sorry-for-himself Loki. Not a dark fic. And gentleman!Nuada asdfghjkl
> 
> Props to dfotw and Siguna for having lovely SilverPrinces fics and igniting my craze for this shipping.
> 
> I do not own Nuada or Loki or any facts/plots from the movies/comics etc. Please excuse typos, point them out if they interfere with the flow, and my bullshit plot. Just, slashing guys. slaaaash.
> 
> Also, this is more movie verse than mythological, so Loki doesn’t have his army of babies or wild fire skills and whatnot lol

_** The Magical Properties of Silver ** _

Loki had been defeated. His army fell, the portal was closed, and he was sure the Hulk dislodged his stomach and knocked it into his chest. He was sore, alone, and defeated. Instead of showing humiliation or disappointment he managed to crawl over to the stairs before being found by his enemies as part of the floor. The Avengers arrived together to apprehend him once the Chitauri army fell, giving him the filthiest looks they could muster. The Captain at least looked slightly more relieved that they’d won instead of trying to glare him back into Stark's expensive floor, and Stark didn’t even smirk at his surrendering comment for a drink. He didn’t even want to look Thor’s way, he could feel his stare and he didn’t want to catch it and feel as though he should feel guilty.

 _Because he wouldn’t._

He kept as silent as the grave as the Midgardians fussed over what to do with him, flinching internally whenever Thor pulled him this way and that. Sometimes it felt like Thor was subliminally protecting him from all the rage from his colleagues, and sometimes it felt like Thor would release him as soon as he could as if bothered by the contact. Loki didn’t know which idea hurt more, so he focused on his own loathing for the feel of Thor’s hands, and soon found himself being taken back to Asgard where he would receive their judgment. Any sentence from the humans would mean nothing after all, but he kept his heart hard in preparation for whatever came next.

Never before had Asgard felt so alien. Even after finding out he was a Jotun, the palace still felt like his home. All those years he felt different because he _was_ different, but he was still of Asgard and he wanted to prove that to them. To their _father_. But now…it was the last place he wanted to be.

Upon arriving to Asgard, even though they travelled using the Tesseract Heimdall met them and escorted them to Odin. It was easier to look at the gatekeeper and feel nothing but anger than when he looked at Thor, but it was even harder to look at Frigga. Odin looked down at him as if so deeply disappointed, it made Loki both upset and annoyed. Frigga cried for him, but he wasn’t allowed the gift of her company, despite seeing her plead with Odin to speak with him. It made his heart clench but it made him more determined to keep his heart cold. He didn’t plead guilty or innocent, he didn’t apologize or justify his actions, because his word would mean nothing to the council or Odin. He was the Jotun monster who Odin had kept locked away and hidden from his people, nothing he could say would mean a damn thing, simply because of the colour of his skin. How very Midgard like.

His sentence was served and he met his cell. It wasn’t horrid like he mused, though Thor looked more concerned than he did, but that could have been about anything. It didn’t matter though, because as soon as he recovered from the battle on Midgard and welled up enough magical force within himself to use at one time, he made his escape.

Escaping from Asgard took everything Loki had. More dead bodies, more of his own bodily harm, and the agility of a black cat in the pitch of night and some dangerous magic. But he made it out, and with the last of his strength jolted himself off Asgard from a secret place Heimdall could not see and onto the first place he thought of—Midgard. 

He crashed through the wavering portal and hit into a brick wall, cracking the flimsy material slightly as he collided. He fell to the cold tar with a groan, and lifted a hand to shield his face as the portal snapped shut, releasing a sting of energy outwards a few feet. The alley became dark once more as the magic dissipated and Loki lay panting against the damp ground, smelling the reek of Midgard. The street lights at the end of the alley went out from the wave of energy and for the moment Loki was invisible in the dark. He would probably be able to see better if he was in his Jotun form, but he wasn’t going to even think that way.

Soon after he pushed to his feet with a groan and resisted taking in a lung full of freedom, the alley didn’t smell very good. Dusting himself off, sporting bruised ribs, a busted lip and a clean cut across his arm, Loki looked around warily. He couldn’t be followed or tracked through the portal, but nothing was impossible. Thor hadn’t managed to make it to seize him on his way out and he could imagine he was searching, along with the rest of Asgard. Surely Thor would come to Midgard to warn his precious Avengers that Loki had escaped, but without the Tesseract to track and being able to hide from Heimdall, Loki could remain hidden. It was not by choice he opened the portal to New York but a subconscious action, and not one he was proud of. At least it wasn’t straight onto Stark Tower or that would have been awkward. But it was the place with the least dangerous enemies.

It was night time and thankfully the area wasn’t particularly crowded. Where was he to go? He could do many things but bewitching the mind into complete control without the Tesseract was not one of them. He wasn’t fond of breaking into a mortal’s home and killing them to hide out there, it would be even more awkward than landing straight into Stark’s lap. Which he knew the man wouldn’t object.

But oddly, he wasn’t given the chance to wonder about a hide out when he noticed two humans that just did _not_ look right. Loki wandered out, staring at them with a face he usually used when whenever Thor and Odin spoke politics that made no sense what so ever in a logical perspective. But the harder he stared, he more he _saw_. They were not human at all, cloaked in a simple magic Loki knew to simply appear human as they edged down the road, speaking softly to one another. Trolls, Loki gawked, disguised as humans. 

They were so painfully obviously _not_ human that Loki wondered just how stupid humans were to believe it even if they couldn’t see their true forms. But when Loki looked around, the humans wandering were not all that normal either, looking suspicious and as if out for trouble, seeing only victims instead of other suspicious people. 

But if there were trolls about, they had to reside somewhere, there had to be some place where they passed through or congregate, the magic concealing them hide their physical but it wouldn’t hide their so very different natures. Loki's heart fluttered at the thought of some non-Asgard company. So he followed. He slunk out the alley, dressed in the tattered cotton clothes from his imprisonment, and kept his face concealed with his long hair. He glanced around out of habit, expecting an Avenger to pop out and attack him, and trailed the trolls. They weren’t very fast and trudged along unattractively, frightening a woman accidently on the way. They were not smart creatures, and with Loki being so naturally sneaky they didn’t realize they were being followed until they were at the doorway to what the runes scribed upon it said _Troll Market_ in an old Slavic language of Midgard.

Loki’s shadow fell into their path just as they opened the door, but by the time they turned he made himself invisible, and stepped cautiously straight towards their confused faces. His body ached from battle but he stepped in an exaggerated manner so not to make a sound. His boots made no crunch on the cement floor and quickly they shrugged it off, and entered through the hidden doorway and into a very busy crossway. Loki stepped in only when the door began to slide shut, and it was a good thing too as his invisibility mirage was smacked away by a spell enchanting the doorway the moment he stepped through. He stumbled lightly with a wince from the power and glanced around, waiting to be recognized and singled out, but nothing happen. 

The trolls before him were now in their true form, walking off together into the chaos of the Troll Market. Loki turned back when he heard the door click shut and read a few of the runes, seeing many for protection. He looked down at his hands and wondered why he hadn’t been forced into his Jotun form if his invisibility charm had been cancelled out, but it was Odin who placed it upon him, perhaps his influence was too powerful to be simply dismissed. For once he felt grateful for it and turned back, finally looking into the faces of the most random creatures he’d ever seen.

There were races of all kinds, and a shocking amount of those he didn’t recognize. He had always been the brains of the team, explaining to Thor and the Warriors Three about whom and what kind of people they found on their ventures, but he was stumped here. So many creatures conversing and trading and knocking by as if nothing was odd. The last time Loki had seen so many different creatures in one enclosed area was- never…

It was difficult not to stare, there were some truly odd species bustling about, he almost forgot to be offended as he was caught in the crowd and shoved here and there. But what was truly odd was that no one was staring at him. To them he surely looked human, but perhaps they could sense his magical and other worldly aura. …Or could they see his Jotun form. Self consciously he backed up against a wall and tried to find someone staring at him. But no one looked at him twice. It was both comforting and degrading.

Quickly Loki’s shoulders lowered bit by bit and he stole some food, the least disgusting being sold, and settling on a perch where the traffic was least heavy. He rested against the wall and ate idly, watching the beings go about their business. He heard and recognized multiple languages of ancient cultures and subconsciously rejoiced when he heard nothing from his own ho-Asgard. He didn’t want to know anything more of it.

If Loki had known of this place he might have thought twice before trying to destroy this specific city. The Troll Market was full of wonder and he couldn’t take in as much in one second as he wanted to. They sold anything and every thing, multiple things illegal on Asgard that he had sought in his youth for his sorcery practice. Instantly Loki grew sour as he itched to hurry through the market and purchase countless items and then to run home and hide in his room as he experimented. It was such an innocent and childish desire that rose so quickly that it frightened him, and he turned away with a glower, reminding himself he had no home, and this was no time to be sentimental.

Eventually the problem of a hideout grew. Loki wandered for many hours before realizing the market never slept. When one group packed up their business and left, another took its place. While it meant he would never be kicked out because the place was closing, he was finally getting odd stares as the hours trickled into days and he still hadn’t shown any signs of leaving. He didn’t dare leave to the surface but there was no where but to wander around and around. He pushed away the need for sleep and slunk into small groove, resting here and there and pondering his next plan of action. He was growing weaker by the day, his escape having drained a lot of his power, and the lack of sleep wasn’t doing him any good. His wounds had healed for the most part but his ribs were still a little achy and he could do with a long bathe.

Before he lost anymore energy Loki fashioned more sturdy clothes onto his body, but left out the theatrics. He didn’t want to draw attention. While they didn’t seem to know or care who he was, he was alone and rather small compared to half the creatures here, they might decide to pick on him. He wasn’t afraid, but he didn’t want to waste energy knocking down buffoons. 

But it didn’t come to that, and after a few mere days Loki was approached.

For a short while Loki had the nagging feeling that he was being followed. He saw no one watching him, and no one seemed to follow him as he twined randomly down the corners as a test. But he was definitely being followed, he could feel eyes burning into his back. So he turned and headed into a small alley he knew would be quiet, and when he entered it he slowed down substantially. Fists tightening should he need to react, Loki stopped altogether and turned his head to the left, hoping his calm front would intimidate his follower.

“I know you’re there.” He said, resisting looking over his shoulder. 

It was silent save for the muffled sounds of the market, then a shadow passed across a beam of light and previously silent footsteps could now be heard, closer than Loki expected. He finally turned to face his pursuer, but his words caught in throat at the regal entrance of an elf. It was the last kind he expected to see in such a swarthy place.

The figure was male, and stepped up with paced and light steps, hands at his sides, one gripping a sliver spear, a calm expression on his face pale. _His face_. Loki got caught on the face. Lined with battle scars and clearly marked symbols of royalty—this was no commoner. Loki knew many of the royal symbols of the Nine Realms when he saw them. Shoulders upright and firm, head held high and each step meaningful, the elf man stopped a few feet away. He exuded a confidence Loki only pretended to have. A confidence none had today. _Was_ it confidence? It didn’t look like arrogance, but Loki wasn’t a magnet for friendlies. The sceptre he held was surely of elven make and thus probably deadly should it strike you—silver had many magical properties, especially that of elven make. It seemed to gleam even in the shadows of the alley, beautifully and threateningly.

The elf was dressed in simple attire much like Loki, sturdy, black, and plain. It wasn’t that of a royal, but Loki had little knowledge of the elven race in particular. Odin had always been secretly jealous of them and kept a decent inter realm relationship simply to avoid any sniffing of war. Then again he knew what the elves looked like that dwelled in Svartálfaheimr and they reminded him now of the Chitauri, ugly and wild. But this elf, surely he was of Alfheimr, skin so pale and stance so regal. Loki had always been talented at smelling out lies and reading people, but he wasn’t sure if his reading of his man was good or bad.

Clearly he must have looked alarmed for the man placed both hands behind his back and tilted his head slightly, looking at Loki with attractive golden eyes as if he could see into his soul. It made him shiver, and Loki quietly hoped he couldn’t see his Jotun form, he didn’t want anyone to see it, even himself.

“You I have not seen before.” 

Loki hadn’t know what to expect from his voice, but if anything other sound passed through his dark lips it would have been criminal. Such authority and wisdom lacing his gentle voice, it was an astounding contrast to the obnoxious boom Thor threw around. 

“Who are you?” Loki asked carefully.

The elf smiled carefully, not looking intimidated in the least. Rather he had an ease stance as if this happened everyday. “I believe I was subtly asking the same thing.”

Loki glanced around for any sign that the elf had some nasty friends lurking, then brought his arms up to fold against his chest. “I am seeking asylum.”

Brows rose and the elf brought his hands forward, feathering his fingers across the blade, but not in an intimidating manner. “From what?”

Loki pressed his lips together and narrowed his eyes, glancing at the weapon. He took an idly step to the side, weighing his leverage in the situation. “That I cannot say. Why were you following me?”

“It is not often we have visitors with the skin of humanity but the power of the high realms. You caught my eye, slinking about.”

Loki laughed shallowly. “If anyone was slinking about it was you.”

“Not when you live here.” The man replied with a look Frigga usually made when proving to Odin she was right about something. “If you need asylum I can provide it. But first I must know from whom and why you are hiding. I will not aid an offender to my people.”

“Who are your people?” Loki asked, wondering just what an elf was doing on Midgard.

“We are among them.”

Loki narrowed his eyes as the man gestured around lightly with his spear. “…Do you rule this place?”

“Rule? No. I live here.” The elf frowned heavily, tilting a confused expression. “I do not have to be their leader for them to be my people. Not all family is bound by blood.”

Loki inwardly flinched. If that comment was purely oblivious to his personal predicaments fate certainly had a cruel sense of humour. But the man showed no signs of knowing who he was, so he relented. “…I attacked the mortals of this city. The humans. Now my family, and the humans are trying to imprison me.”

Surprise splashed up onto the elf and he smiled. “You attacked the humans? When?” He almost sounded impressed and a little more curious than Loki expected anyone to be right now, and he had a bright smile despite the dark colour of his lips and around his eyes, which were more attractive than Loki wanted them to be.

“A few months ago, did you not hear of it?” He may not have won or toppled the city, but he and the Chitauri had made quite a mess, not to mention the green anger beast. Surely even down here the people would have known about it? …Or was it less glorious than he thought it had been?

“I wasn’t here, I was spending time in a foreign land. I’ve only recently returned.”

Loki swallowed down the hope that his battle wasn’t just a stones drop in the ocean, and raised a brow. “What land?”

“Where are you from?” 

“I asked first.”

The elf tutted. “I ask for a more significant reason.”

There was little room for argument from the tone the elf used, so again Loki relented. The patient but unyielding look on the man’s handsome face was not one Loki was used it, it affected him in a most frustrating way. “…Asgard.” He ground out.

“Realm of Odin?” the elf asked as if it were a lie. “What quarrel has Asgard with Earth?”

“None, it is I who has the quarrel.” 

“Oh? And may I know who you are, mystery sire.”

It sounded almost like a damn marriage proposal. Loki’s cheeks heated and he frowned, but pleasantly, rather enjoying the calm and personal conversation and attention. “…Loki. I am Loki O- Loki of Asgard.” Loki’s heart thumped off track twice, and he watched the elf for any signs of malevolence and striking out. He didn’t want to call himself an Odinson, but he didn’t know how to explain in one breath that he wasn’t. “…Son of Odin.”

“Prince Loki?” the elf said instead, looking pleasantly surprised. He leaned his weight to the right, smirking lightly. “I should have guessed. You smell of the Odinson arrogance.”

Loki grit his teeth, resisting barking that he was not an Odinson by blood. “...It’s a learned trait.” He muttered instead.

“Well then, Prince Loki, welcome to the Troll Market.” The man said, pleasantly, and proceeded to bow low, his bleach blond hair falling in a silky motion towards the ground. The arm attached to the sceptre went out in a sharp respectful manner among royal warriors and he looked up with a gaze that had Loki blushing profusely. His heart raced and he shifted slightly, wishing he could tell the man not to bow, but at the same time eating it up. No one ever bowed to him. They’d bow to Thor yes, but not him. Norns he had just attacked Midgard trying to get the bitches to kneel and here an elf was doing it without being asked.

The elf then rose up, smiling calmly and choosing not to comment on the expressions sifting through Loki’s face. “I have heard many tales of your mischief with your brother, the almighty Thor, but not of your attack on the humans. I am most keen to hear about it.”

“Right after you tell me who _you_ are.” Loki countered, hoping the darkness of the alley was enough to conceal the heat on his face.

“Of course. I am Nuada Silverlance of the clan of Bethmoora. Son of King Balor and heir to his throne.” The elf said his entire title in a most regal way, the way Loki only heard at coronations and coming of age ceremonies. “Have I your respect now?”

Balor. Loki knew that name. A Balor prince. Another prince. An actually prince from a fellow realm, and a prince that wasn’t strutting and acting like he was perfect. A prince that actually bowed to him, even after his rather rude words. The man’s polite and gentlemanly attitude suddenly made sense and Loki jumped to reply. “…Prince Nuada.” Loki said, in a mixture of awe and respect, and bowed low in return. He didn’t make a show of it and quickly curled back up, this time playing idly with his fingers to show respect and humility. “I apologize, I am weary and sought after. Everywhere I turn I have enemies.”

“Then you are lucky it is I who has found you on this corner.” Nuada said, and Loki very nearly believed him instantly. The prince smiled handsomely and gestured with his sceptre. “Come, I have warmth and food. You will be safe, prince.”

Loki glanced at the pale hand attached to the gleaming sceptre. It was not as big as Thor’s, it was the artistic type. Long slim fingers, rough from use, gentle yet strong. Much like his own. His gaze flickered to the sceptre, and he wondered if he was destined to meet his end through it. “How can I trust you?” he looked back up from under his eye lashes, wanting to find that hidden foe beneath the pale lined skin.

“It is the humans we cannot trust.” Nuada said, his hand falling and his expression darkening. “They should be the ones down here, beneath _our_ feet, like the cretin they are.”

Loki was won over. “I’d be honoured to accept your hospitality.”

***

The trip to Nuada’s home had them leave the Troll Market. Loki kept a strong memory of the way back should it be a trick, but something told him this wouldn’t be one of those times. He followed quietly behind the other prince, neither of them making a sound due to their ability of stealth, and silently admired him. While he was more attracted to the brawn and heavy masculinity Thor and the Captain possessed, he felt his cheeks heat just the same as he watched Nuada. He was so sleek and agile, walking with the grace only an elven warrior possessed. He was built just right and strong evidence of the good breeding the elves practiced. His hair was deathly pale in comparison to Loki’s, much like his skin, which was marred with battle scars and a few markings of the royal family. It reminded Loki of the kind Jotuns have, and realised maybe, just maybe, it was actually beautiful instead of ugly…

Along the way Nuada greeted nearly all that bothered to look up and Loki wondered why these people treated him like a prince even though this was not Alfheimr and they were not elves. They seemed to respect him none the less and Loki felt saddened when he realised once more he was trailing behind a prince loved by his people. No one looked at him twice, it was as if another shadow replaced Thor’s.

The thought was kicked from his mind and he jumped when a hand clasped around his waist. He snapped from his sullen musings and flinched, ready to throw his elbow and crunch someone’s nose for touching him, but found Nuada leaning close to him, tilting his face and trying to convey a silent question. Loki realised he had stopped walking and Nuada had turned back for him.

Blood rose to paint his cheeks from the proximity and the hand against his side felt like it was on fire. Or maybe that was his bruised ribs. He swallowed and made an inquiring hum, not trusting his voice as his stomach fluttered. Norns what the Hel was he doing, becoming flustered like this!

“Don’t lag too far behind, not all here will be pleasant to a lost prince of Asgard.” Nuada said so only Loki could hear, and pulled away his hand slowly. He patted Loki on the back and continued on.

It took an embarrassing amount of effort to get his legs to move, and Loki hurried off after him. He rubbed his side to rid it of the feel of the other prince, and bit the inside of his mouth when he realised in frustration he was acting like the women Thor loved to impress. This was not the time to be courting fuzzy feelings.

Soon enough they reached Nuada’s home and Loki forgot all about his inner argument. He gawked at the amount of protective symbols leading into Nuada’s home, but positively flailed inwardly when he met the inside of it.

“Norns have mercy…”

Nuada grinned as he led the fellow prince into his home. “Like it? It’s nothing compared to temples of your Asgard or Álfheimr, but its safe.”

“It’s beautiful!” Loki exclaimed, an excitement bubbling up inside of him that he hadn’t felt for many years. There was only one room, but it was large and held everything in a beautiful balance. And there was a lot to balance. The room was full, covered in ancient history. Stone scribes and paintings lined the walls, chimes and charms hung from the ceiling, multiple skins and coats of a wide variety of beasts covered the floors and books were scattered everywhere. Loki could smell them and they looked so delicate and aged—it was almost arousing. “Where did you get all these?” he asked, awestruck. There wasn’t just Alfheimr history here, was a bit of everyone, Asgard included.

Nuada felt impressed at Loki’s enthusiasm and respect. “Many were my father’s and his forefathers. They were passed to me when he died…”

Loki was too excited to notice the sadness in his voice, bending over a pile of books like a child over wrapped gifts. He didn’t dare touch, fearing he’d damage such priceless and powerful things. They were simmering with old magic and just begging to be worshipped. “These are extremely old…”

“I have been around a couple thousand years more than you, I’ve visited many lands. I often like to collect trinkets.”

“This is incredible.” Loki praised, not seeing the smile from Nuada. He couldn’t stop looking around, he wanted to jump into it all and just bask. Thor wouldn’t have seen the beautiful he did…but apparently Nuada did. Again his heart thumped and he swallowed, remembering he was now a war criminal and not a little boy. He straightened up and tried not to look quite so excited. “You have pieces of…everyone.”

“Wonderful, is it not?” Nuada said happily, taking a moment himself to look around. 

“It’s…incredible.” Loki repeated, wondering where Nuada had been when he had needed someone to relate to.

“Too many relics are hidden and forgotten in the dust, it breaks my heart. I try to honour all that of Old as the times more forward, leaving them so far behind.”

Loki’s blood ran cold. His almost smile fell and his hands found his waist. 

_Relics_ … His mind took him back to his confrontation with Odin and his heart clenched. He was being stored away until useful. It made him more determined to stick by his choices, that way Odin would see _no one commanded Loki_. He does what _he_ wants.

Immediately Nuada noticed the dampening on his mood and reached out to him, placing two very gentle hands on either side of his arms. “Loki? What upsets you?”

Loki leaned back slightly, but not out of his grip. He turned his head away, avoiding those wise eyes that clearly knew more than even he did after being mind raped by the Tesseract. “Nothing.”

“Young prince,” Nuada lifted Loki’s chin with two fingers, and chose not to acknowledge the weakness he saw in the sparkling green eyes for Loki’s sake. Loki swallowed and shivered at the touch, but welcomed it, needy and alone. “I am neither your enemy nor the one that holds your heart, speak to me and I shall listen. You’ll receive no judgement from me.”

It was thought that spilling your troubles to a stranger was easier than to a loved one, Loki agreed it worked, on some level. Downing liquor in a foreign world and complaining vaguely about your troubles helped to ease the tension, and it was like speaking to yourself—it was as if you told no one. It did help, and Loki couldn’t help but feel the need to be fussed over. And very suddenly, especially by this man, this _prince_. He was already feeling needy and sad and now to have this exotic elf prince concerned for his well being sounded too good to pass up. He knew just how to widen and wet his eyes and highlight his dimples to make anyone melt.

“Everything…”

And Nuada played into his hand, knowingly he knew, but helpfully anyway. “Tell me everything…”

***  
Two hours and three bottles of elven wine later Loki was curled up on Nuada’s bed, resting against the dozen large pillows and cradling his goblet to his chest. His cheeks were pink from the drink and his eyes heavy, but he was still never much alive, especially now that he was drunk and had just finished telling Nuada almost everything he had been through connected to his business with the Avengers.

Nuada listened intently, never scolding him, never telling him he could have done this or that better, and refilled his goblet whenever it emptied. Nuada lay besides him, holding up the bottle of wine, propped up on an elbow as he listened for the third time about Thor, the versions becoming more comical with the influence of the alcohol. This was not the way he expected the night to go, and no he didn't expect it to go _that_ way, but Loki looked like he was brooding a dark concoction behind his weary eyes—not hissy over his brother.

“And Thor _cannot_ understand that. The humans wage wars and slaughter each other in battles for power when they’re all the same. They _need_ a firm hand, and if I cannot have Asgard why not Midgard? I was the one that actually studied and listened to Odin when he went on and on and _on_ about being a proper king. If anyone can be a king it’s me! Not Thor! But _no_ , I’m the enemy’s child, the Jotun monster, you can’t have _that_ ruling a land! They forget Laufey was doing a fine job. So fine that Odin felt intimidated and saw fit to destroy them, _and_ steal me for the fun of it!”

Loki’s dramatic hand movements amused Nuada and he chuckled. It simmered as he recalled a very old name, one as old as their fathers’. “… _King_ Laufey? Of Jotunheimr?”

The swinging of Loki’s feet and waving of his fingers stilled. He stared off to the wall, as if he could see through it and was watching something closely. He licked his dry lips, clutching the goblet tighter. “…My blood father.” He hadn’t directly mentioned that so far, and it took a great effort to do so. The words sounded so foreign, but then so did they when he spoke of Odin. “…He’s my father.”

Nuada made a noise in the back of his throat, and squinted lightly at him. “I was wondering what you’re hiding with your mirage. Why hide it?”

Loki turned clumsily to look at him as if he was insane, amusing Nuada. “…Why show it? Have you _seen_ Jotuns?” He was glad Odin placed this spell on him, he didn't want to have to concentrate all day to keep it up himself or he might as well hide under a rock. But it also hurt that Odin hid from view what he truly was, it said a lot about what Odin thought of his kind...of _him_.

“Yes. They’re an impressive and exquisite race. You are small for a Jotun though, I assume you are Frostfemme, a maiden version of the Jotun?”

Loki’s opinion on Jotuns was far from the words _impressive_ and especially _exquisite_ , but being called a maiden was worse. And frost what? Or had he misheard? The wine was so much stronger than that of Asgard, and he had never been much of a drinker to start with. Or maybe Nuada had spoken in an elven language and he simply misinterpreted through all the wine. “A _what_?”

“Never mind.” Nuada dismissed and lifted the bottle, gesturing to Loki. “You say you want to rule them, the humans, what on earth for? Our lives would be better without them. We need not slaves, many of our kind are fit for labour. Your race for example—Jotuns are phenomenal builders. And the Dwarves’ skills are unparalleled. Humans stole _our_ knowledge and used it for themselves. We do not need them, it is _they_ who need us.” 

It was extremely difficult to form an argument in his drunken state, and worse Loki realised Nuada made more sense than his own reasoning on the topic did. Nuada seemed to be full of wisdom and Loki wished to bask in it properly the next time he was sober, too many times he was surrounded by idiots. This time _he_ was the one looking up to another, and he rather enjoying it, especially seeing as he wasn't being treated like a subordinate. He brought the cup to his lips for a sip as he debated what to say, but when nothing even remotely smart rose he decided he’d blame it tomorrow on the wine. “…It sounded tempting at the time. Also I just wanted to upset Thor, he loves Midgard and its people...”

“Love?” Nuada repeated as if he didn’t understand. “Why love such vermin? Especially when you are around.”

Loki blushed, but he had definitely heard incorrectly this time. “…Thor is stupid.” He repeated softly, taking another sip to hide the darkening of his cheeks and hoping it was an acceptable reply to whatever Nuada had probably actually said. Stupid wine. Stupid Thor. Stupid Odin. Stupid sexy scars and dark eyes and long fingers and just ugh.

“So says the tales. But _you_ are smart? Dear Silvertongue? Asgard’s little Trickster.”

Loki stared off again, remembering a time when he had wanted to make a proper respected name among the realms, and now he had, only it wasn’t with respect. “I have seen things little others have.” The Tesseract and The Other flashed through his mind, and he almost wished he hadn't accepted their offer. Suddenly he felt exposed and vulnerable, like they could see him curled up and drunk, but Nuada’s voice chased it away.

“That doesn’t sound very appealing.”

“…Not anymore.” Loki mumbled. He looked up, eyes big and searching. “…You despise the humans too?”

Nuada hummed and looked away as he contemplated the answer. “I am a tolerant man. But the nature of humankind is the one thing I cannot stand.”

Loki found himself staring at the chiselled form of Nuada’s jaw and neck, and choked out a pathetic response, trying but failing to find a place on the elf that wasn’t looking increasingly attractive. “…They’re stupid too.”

“They’re greedy and vicious.” Nuada said lowly, managing to pull Loki from his visual drinking, “They think themselves gods. Perhaps you _should_ rule them, teach them a lesson. Remind them they are not as wonderful as they think they are.”

Loki laughed hollowly, and slid the goblet towards Nuada in the space between them. “You’ll have to do that, I’m not feeling all that wonderful at the moment…”

Nuada refilled his cup. “What else do you mourn?” he asked, prepared to listen a few more times about Thor and the others. Loki would fall asleep soon anyway.

“…I’ll never be loved again.” Loki found himself breathing against the pillows, and his toes curled. He didn’t have much to lose, and he couldn’t see Nuada hurrying out and telling people whatever he was confessing to. He never thought on these topics in general, but now with the wine they were bugging him worse than ever. No one would love him after what he did, he hadn’t even the chance to hear from Frigga’s own lips that she still loved him. Odin never loved him, Thor still chose his friends above him and who would ever love the insane mad man that killed his own father and tried to destroy a city?

The little Asgardian looked so utterly convinced of his own words that Nuada was sure he’d jump into a volcano if someone said it loved him. He looked so different from before when he was trailing him in the market, all confident and warrior-like. Loki had known he was being followed and usually Nuada could trail others without being noticed—he was impressed. But Loki looked so small now, curled up into his bed, eyes wet and lost, hugging himself because no one else would.

“You don’t know that.”

Loki burrowed further into the bedding, sipping from his cup whenever he felt weak. “And the Avengers will sit all cosy and happy in their victory forever while I live in the shadows should I not attempt another battle. And I’ll be forgotten and become- …become a forgotten relic.”

“That won’t happen.” Nuada said too quickly. He offered a playful smile when Loki looked up. “However should it come to pass, know you’ll have a place here and I’ll be sure to take special care of you.”

Loki snorted, and leaned closer towards Nuada, deciding whatever he said or did was because of the wine. Every race used that excuse, even the humans. He longed to have someone hold him again like Thor used to, he realised, and he glanced at those perfectly sized muscles just laying there with nothing to wrap around. “I’m a stranger in your home, how can you care about me at all?”

“I am an elven prince, dear heart. I was raised knowing one day I would have to care for many people. And I do it with pleasure. Not all my people are strong, or smart, or wealthy. I give my aid where I can, because someone must. And should I ever fall and need it, I’d hope for aid in return. But until I am down, I shall be there for my fellow brethren.”

It wasn’t what Loki’s drunken self expected (or wanted to hear), and he frowned lightly. Not even Thor was that generous. “…You’re not afraid of betrayal, or being seen as weak?”

“Clearly Asgard’s views are still warped and flimsy. My father never had many good things to say about your people.”

Loki snorted again. “Which ones, the pink or blues one?”

Nuada laughed and watched Loki’s pink lips part and close over the rim of the goblet and his throat swallow. “You are charming.”

“I think I’m drunk.” 

Nuada grinned, but looked away for it was improper. Loki was distressed and clearly drunk, he was much too vulnerable to tease in such a way, despite being clearly capable of handling it when sober. The looks Loki was giving him were more than suggestive but young people were like that, jumping into the bed first and asking questions later. “Hel forbid Odin sees you now, drunk and draped on an elf’s bed.” 

“Haha! Good gracious, then he’d outright call me a savage.”

Nuada looked back up, and frowned heavily. “He disapproves of interracial affairs?”

“Yes, no? I dunno know. No. But he’d be angry. He stole me for Thor, not Balor’s son. Wait what in the Nine Realms are we talking about, are you trying to woo me?”

It was most difficult for Nuada to act like the sultry looks thrown at him did not affect him. Loki was almost lying entirely on his front and leaning towards him, his long legs splayed so beautifully in his snug black trousers, his hair hanging equally so on either side of his own sharp face. He had the most dazzling green eyes and Nuada wanted to get lost in them. “You are definitely drunk.” He said instead, and frowned on Loki’s choice of words. “What makes you say he stole you _for_ Thor? Or is that the wine speaking?”

“No, that’s Odin speaking.” Loki said, but leaned away, looking neither upset nor relieved by the oblivious response. He pulled his legs up and slipped one hand between his thighs, the other holding up his goblet. “He took me from Jotunheimr to create unity between our lands. He was going to have me…have me marry Thor.”

Nuada did a soft double take. He hadn’t known _that_ , and he quite a lot of each realm. “When did you find this out? Before attacking the humans?”

“Yes. It’s not why I did it though, not directly…”

“I suppose it’s logical, political marriages usually work. Jotunheimr and Asgard have been at war for many years... Marry the heir of King Laufey to his son the future king, then break the grudges through a child born, and create a peaceful future for his people. Both peoples.” Nuada remembered the times Balor would insist Nuala was to make a political match, it always worried him so. His sister was a flower in flesh form, he couldn’t bear the thought of her in some man’s callous hands. So she ended up marrying an awkward fish-like man from Earth that could do as much damage to anything as she could. It was a relief to Nuada, even though the man was on the side of the enemy…

For a short while Loki didn’t speak and Nuada wondered if it had been his turn to speak, but he saw Loki with thought in his eyes and on the tip of his tongue he waited patiently until Loki did speak. When he did it came out as a whisper, as if he was afraid or forbidden to speak of it. “…Mother said Jotuns have babies.”

“Loki, all things have babies.” Nuada murmured kindly, frowning at the choice of topic. He was about to wipe Loki’s hair from his sweaty forehead when Loki continued, looking extremely lost again.

“I don’t think they know just how confusing it is for me.”

It was easy to keep up and understand what Loki spoke of. Nuada knew how Jotuns worked and if Loki was brought up to think like an Asgardian male then he would definitely have some problems with himself after finding out that he wasn’t as male as he’d thought. When someone is drunk their real person comes out, their fears, their inner most thoughts, and instead of worrying on his enemies Loki was worrying on his body, and it made Nuada extremely concerned. How would the man ever accept himself like this? If you weren't happy in your own skin you'd never find happiness, no matter who said you were perfect. He nodded and played idly with the bottle in his hand. “I can imagine. You were brought up with a male’s ideologies.”

“…I’m Jotun.” Loki whispered, staring at the bedding as though it told a tragic story. “I like magic.” He added after half a minute more of silence.

“There is nothing wrong with any of that.” Nuada assured when Loki said no more.

“I like looking neat and presentable.”

It sounded as if Loki was acknowledging these things for the first time, and Nuada guessed he was, out loud at least. He looked quite disturbed by all the things he was saying, but Nuada heard nothing meriting negativity in his words. “As should a prince.” He said.

“I can have babies.” Loki breathed, and took a gulp this time.

“…As all Jotuns can.” Nuada said carefully, suddenly fearing Loki would try to choke himself on the goblet itself.

“…I’m not a woman.”

“There would be nothing wrong with that, even if you were.” Nuada wanted so desperately to pet Loki’s hair and tell him he was okay, that there was nothing wrong with him.

“…I don’t like women.” Loki mumbled sourly.

Nuada raised a questioning brow, but kept his voice calm and tried to be understanding. “Females are not below us Loki. Asgard is a fine example of that, the Valkyries are most impressive-”

“No, I mean… I don’t _like_ women.” Loki repeated, and finally turned up his gaze to burn it into Nuada. It almost looked like he was waiting for something. Rejection? Acceptance? A scold? Nuada could not tell. He wanted to shake Loki and tell him to stop sinking so low for no reason. There was nothing wrong with being a Jotun and there was nothing wrong with preferring magic over a sword and certainly nothing wrong with preferring men, especially when your race didn’t even have females. But this was all Asgard’s fault; they raised Loki wrong for a Jotun.

“I see.” 

“I’m all wrong.” Loki said as if reading his thoughts, and turned his eyes down cast. He looked so miserable and self loathing, silently begging for comfort and love.

Nuada had the distinct impression Loki was seeking attention. And he was, it was written all over him like the runes present on his Jotun skin. Though Nuada didn’t have the patience and energy to be dramatic, he did understand the need to be accepted and acknowledged. Loki clearly wanted to hear good words from his mouth, and while it wouldn’t heal his pain, it might sooth it for tonight. He then shook his head when Loki looked away. “Yes you are.”

Loki’s looked up as if Nuada slapped him, and years upon years of sadness were etched all over his face. His eyes brimmed with salty tears in an instant and he looked as though he was betrayed by his most trusted confident. Nuada pulled his lips, but it had to be done, Loki needed to remember this.

“You are wrong in _thinking_ that.” He continued, and this time reached out, petting that selection of hair he had been itching to touch. Loki flinched beneath him but said and did nothing. “Loki, you are one of the most beautiful creatures I have ever laid my eyes on, and were you not so despondent and drunk I’d gladly prove it to you.”

It was amusing each time Loki’s cheeks went red, and this time he did not disappoint. Nuada laughed, and pulled away his hand to place it back on the bottle. Loki almost leaned after him, but his body was heavy and tired thanks to the wine, but maybe it was for the best. Nuada was too good to be dealing with a little brat feeling sorry for himself...

“You are different to the culture you were brought up in, but you are not wrong. There are many male sorcerers in the realms, even human men. There is nothing wrong with preferring a male. Nothing is wrong if it is properly consenting. Odin was wrong to bring you up without teaching you Jotun customs. It’s in your blood to be attracted to a male form, females cannot give you heirs the way your body needs it.”

“…It’s weird.” Loki mumbled honestly. So many times Frigga had teased them about finding wives and giving her a dozen grandchildren. Now that he knew he was the one who was supposed to end up pregnant he couldn’t help feeling more awkward than ever, especially since Odin and Frigga had known this. They shouldn’t have lied to him and made him think he was something he wasn’t.

“I think it’s utterly beautiful.” Nuada said, and looked at Loki as if he had said the most outrageous thing, as Loki looked back at him with a mirrored expression. His expression softened and he sighed. “But do not fret over it tonight, you are free and far away from Asgard.”

“ _Am_ I safe?” Loki asked, giving him Odin’s stink eye of doom.

Nuada laughed and raised the bottle Loki had been so smart as to find. “You want to decide that now after incapacitating yourself?”

“…I can make ice blades and I’m not afraid to use them.”

“Try not to, my bedding has some of the finest cloth in the world, I’d rather not have you tearing it.”

Loki managed a smile as Nuada made light of the situation, but he still couldn’t help feeling unsafe. He hadn’t had a proper sleep in a long time and now with the wine in his system who knows how deep and long he’d sleep. Anything could happen—he really should have thought a little more before falling drunk into a stranger’s bed. “... You won’t reveal my location?”

But Nuada just did not smell of lies. Or malice. Or anything of that kind… He asked simply to hear the soothing tone and reassurance of Nuada's voice. He smiled his handsome smile and it made Loki feel safe. “I swear, young prince. I will keep you hidden.”

“…What do you want in return?” he asked, wearily, and childishly prayed Nuada knew nothing of the Tesseract because he wasn’t going down that road any time soon. 

“You have nothing to give and you have nothing I need in particular. So let us not make a fuss of it. Rest now, rest your heart and soul, and tomorrow I will tell you about my tale of exile and my own attempt on the humans.”

Through all his ranting Loki realised with shame he hadn’t bothered to ask Nuada any of his stories. He nodded to show he would be a better listener next time, then grinned with a dreamy look to ease the tension, and possibly earn another touch from Nuada. “Did you kill dozens of them?”

Nuada laughed at the morbid question so sultrily passed. “My army didn’t reach the surface.”

Loki pulled a face, leaning over to finish off his wine when Nuada didn’t reach for him, and rubbed his left eye with the heel of his palm tiredly. “Why not?”

“That is a tale for tomorrow. Sleep now.” When Nuada made to sit up Loki jumped and reached out, but couldn’t bring himself to ask him to stay. The other prince’s company was most comforting, it was the best company he had had in a long time. He was drunk and tired and Nuada was so kind and exuded power and strength and he didn’t want to let him go. He wanted that close, he just wanted to feel safe from everything out there. Thor used to make him feel safe like this, but very long ago…

“I can’t. I’m worried.” He mumbled, feeling ashamed. He just wanted to be accepted for once, given unconditional love and care and not judged-! Was it too much to ask for? But he had ruined that for himself…but…perhaps Nuada would be different, he didn’t know the Loki everyone else did, he only knew the lonely sad Loki everyone overlooked. He knew the Loki behind the snarl and the anger. He knew the Loki Frigga did, and it made Loki feel clingy.

Nuada regarded him silently, worrying Loki, then in gentle motions took away the goblet and the bottle. He placed them on the floor, then turned and pressed Loki to the bedding by his shoulder. The younger watched him carefully, as if waiting for something, but he urged him down and rolled up the blankets and covered Loki in them, caressing his sharp chin affectionately before it became improper and he had to pull away, despite the look of longing shrouding Loki's tired face. He lay down to face Loki, and pointedly settled himself for sleep to show Loki he would not leave. “You are under my protection, Loki of Asgard. Sleep, dear heart…”

And sleep Loki did. Whether it was Nuada or the wine Loki enjoyed a nightmare-free sleep, and slumbered like never before…

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Odin ships Thorki, btw. How did royal families unite kingdoms in the past? By marriage darlings. Loki can so have babies for the heirs, Jotun hello. Plus he's a prince. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking by it. Also Loki loves Thor, he said so himself in the film. He's just pissed and being a drama queen because how else will he get attention? It's sad.
> 
> Originally this was supposed to have smut because that is how I celebrate new ships I board, but Nuada slapped me and told me show Loki more respect, and thus this ended up smutless. No siriusly, Nuada makes it hard, he’s such a gentleman. Next time there’ll be smut I promise. Now was this Frostiron, Loki would have woken pregnant with Tony offering him more drinks and showing his videos of their night.
> 
> I could go on and on about the beautiful dynamics of this shipping but I won’t run your ears off. Nuada is the mentor Loki never had, and just the person to handle his bitchiness and show him he doesn’t have to go wild for love and attention. Nuada is mature and Loki is temperamental, but they have enough in common that it would draw them together and they’d fit perfectly. Also Nuada would worship his Jotun form like no other, including Thor, and that is saying something.
> 
> The term ‘Frostfemme’ I created to describe Loki by for his small and pretty features when comparing him to regular Jotuns. ‘Femme’ obviously is to do with ‘female’, so it’s implying Loki is a more feminine type of Jotun. Me likes to play with the Jotun biology, and I still like to think there are dominant and submissive categories in the race, subs obviously being the childbearers and the doms the ‘fathers’.
> 
> Anyway, I'll cherish and love comments!
> 
> Has a follow up fic: [Mischief That Cannot be Managed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1902825)


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